Boston.
The weather was cold. Boston had never felt anything quite like it in her life. She was bundled from head to toe in more layers than she thought she had in her entire wardrobe. She pulled her black cap down past her ears as she sought refuge inside the little coffee shop she visited on her way to campus every morning. She let out a shaky breath and her eyes roamed the traditionally decorated little shop.
It wasn't busy--not like she thought it would be at eight in the morning. There were two people behind the counter, in black aprons, assisting the two people in line. There was an older gentleman sitting at a table near the center of the room, reading the Port Angeles daily paper. She stepped towards the counter and ordered her regular--hot chocolate; nothing fancy, nothing expensive, nothing Starbucks or what everyone else was ordering. She was a simple person, she didn't like to overdue or over-complicate things. It just wasn't in her nature. She paid the barista and took a tentative drink of her hot chocolate, making sure not to burn her tongue.
Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, Boston checked the time. She still had enough time to sit and warm up for a bit before catching the eight-thirty bus that would take her all the way to Peninsula College down the 101 where she taught three classes. She sat down by the window, taking another drink before setting the cup down on the table. She opened her messenger bag and pulled out a folder of papers she wanted to start grading.
The door opened and Boston almost immediately regretted sitting near the door as the cold wind whipped through before abruptly stopping as the door slammed shut. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced up towards the door. The man standing there looked slightly apologetic but also entertained. He ran a hand through his unruly golden curls in an attempt to remove tiny flakes of snow.
"Sorry about that," he told her. "You can, uh, stop glaring at any time, you know."
Boston pursed her lips and shrugged. The man nodded and walked towards the counter and made his order. She watched him for a minute until he turned around in which she abruptly looked back at her papers. She told herself to concentrate but soon found out she honestly couldn't and put the papers back into her bag, sighing. Guess that's what I have office hours for--grading, she thought to herself.
"Hi."
She glanced up. "What?"
"I said...hi?" the man replied, looking slightly confused. "Um. It's a greeting. Most people use it in order to start up a conversation or to be polite. Both in my case," he said, shrugging.
"Good for you."
He smiled and sat down across from her, holding out his hand. "I'm Jackson."
"I'm really not interested," she said.
"Well, that's okay because I'm not really hitting on you."
Boston felt her cheeks flush slightly. "I didn't mean it like that."
"No, no, it's okay," he assured her. "It's good to know. Now I can refrain from hitting on such a pretty lady and save my efforts for someone who will be interested," he said smiling. "How are you?"
"You're mocking me."
"Only a little."
She felt herself smile, in spite of the situation.
"What's your name?"
"Boston."
He smiled. "Pretty."
"Yeah," she said candidly, not really taking it to heart. She studied him up and down, taking in his unruly hair, the glint in his eye, the smirk on his face, and the way his gaze never seemed to waver from hers. "What?" she asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable and looking away from his eyes.
"Nothing," he said. "Just killing some time."
"Before what?"
"I don't really know, yet. I don't really have any plans for today. I'm just visiting, you know? Washington isn't really my thing. I prefer weather where I can feel all of my extremities and not walk around looking like an Eskimo," he said, motioning towards the obvious layers he was bundled in. "I swear I'm not this fat."
She couldn't choke back the laugh. "You're not fat."
"Tell my mom that," he said, doing a bad impression of a teenage girl. "She's so mean."
She laughed again. "Yeah, well, being a woman is tough."
"I bet. I'm glad I'm not one," he said, taking a drink of his cup. "So what's your poison?" he asked, motioning towards her drink.
"Hot chocolate," she replied. "So if you're not into cold weather, why are you here in Port Angeles?"
"Part of my job. I'm...involved in, well, I guess we could say a project. And to get a deeper understanding, I thought I'd visit the place of origin. I'm not there yet, though. I'm just getting a better feel for all of Washington, I'd imagine," he explained.
"Uh-huh. A project?"
"Yes. A very important, top secret project," he told her, smiling. He paused. "Aren't you going to ask what it is?"
Boston smiled with him. "Well, if it really is a top secret, important project, why bother asking when I know the chances of you telling me are slim to nil?"
"Ah. You're one of those girls with a brain. I knew you were different," he said, laughing.
"Yes, well. I was ostracized for it." She rolled her eyes.
"Well, you could always ask and then try to convince me. Say, by offering to buy me a drink or taking me to dinner?"
"Yes, but it would still be a waste of time. Because if you were truly loyal to the important, top secret cause, nothing could make you tell me," she said.
Jackson nodded, pondering her argument. "But I could still get a free dinner out of it."
Boston laughed. "I thought you weren't hitting on me?"
"I'm not," he said, pausing. "Okay, maybe a little. Tell me, what do you do?"
"I'm involved with underground, important, top-secret projects," she told him.
"Which include?"
"Mm," she shook her head. "Can't say. It's too secret and important."
"And underground?"
"Of course."
"Can I buy you dinner so I can somehow manipulate you into telling me?" he asked.
She felt her stomach twist and she shrugged. "I don't know if you could manipulate me. I'm very loyal to my cause."
He smiled. "This is me asking you out on a date, Boston."
"I know," she said, looking down. "I just don't know what to say."
"Well. Saying yes would be good."
"Do you even have the time, with all of your top secret-ness?"
He smiled. "I'm sure I could find the time for someone as pretty as you."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not good with the whole compliment thing, Jackson. Besides, I don't even know anything about you besides you're here on some top secret mission."
"I was born in Singapore."
She smiled, looking down.
"You're not into the whole taking-a-chance thing, are you?"
"Not particularly."
"I can respect that. I'll give you time to think about it. I'll see you here, tomorrow morning, same time?"
She thought about it for a minute and nodded without even realizing it. "Okay. I mean, I. I guess I could do that."
"Good," he smiled. He reached for her phone and entered in his number, setting it back down in front of her. "Just in case your underground, top secret, very important group has some really important meeting that will cause you to miss our little date," he said, leaning over quickly kissing her cheek. "I'll see you in the morning, gorgeous."
She froze in her seat, watching him walk out the door and across the street, before she moved again. She glanced at her phone--8:27. She groaned, shoving her phone back into her pocket, picking up her bag and cup and she nearly ran out the door and to the bus stop. She made it there just in time and she sunk down in a seat two rows back behind the driver. She glanced out the window as the snow began to fall harder. She barely smiled and looked ahead of her again. Maybe she could say yes.
Boston sighed as she walked from the bus stop at campus to her office. She set her bags down and tossed her empty cup away. She pulled out her binder, folders, and textbook she would need and she sat down in her chair, thoughts slipping away from her lesson plan and towards the man at the coffee shop. She pushed a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear and she sighed.
"Hey girl."
She glanced towards the door. "Oh, hey girl. I wasn't expecting to see you," she laughed a little bit.
Addison, her best friend and colleague, stood in the doorway of her office. "What's up?"
"Nothing. My brain just isn't working today."
"Why come?"
Boston sighed. "No reason. I'm just being silly."
"It's about a boy! Spill!" Addison said, excited. She sat down in the chair opposite Boston's and grinned. "Now I have to know. Details. And don't skimp on the physical--it's just as important."
Boston laughed. There are no details to skimp on because there's no boy."
"Liar. You filthy liar. I'm your best friend--I can sense it. Now spill."
She sighed. "He was just in the coffee shop. No big deal. I doubt I'll even see him again," she said, shrugging it off like she always did.
"What was his name?"
"Jackson."
Addison smiled. "Did you two talk?"
"About top-secret, important and underground missions."
Addison rolled her eyes. "Seriously."
"Seriously," she smiled. "I mean, I might see him tomorrow. He asked me out, but I wasn't sure yet, so--"
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You weren't sure yet? Dammit, Boston! A hot guy asks you out, you say yes!"
"How do you know he was hot?"
"Because you're blushing."
Boston rolled her eyes. "I'm the expert in behavior, here, not you. I should be reading your signs, not you reading mine."
Addison smiled. "Don't be a hater."
"I'm not," she said. "I'm just really annoyed that I'm out of hot chocolate."
Her friend smiled. "Was he cute?"
"So cute," Boston said, looking down at her gray boots. "Ridiculously cute."
"Say yes when he asks you again."
"Who says he will?"
"The Man Code," Addison said. "Guys don't like to be rejected so he'll probably ask you out until you say yes."
"Oh, wonderful. I've something to look forward to," she replied sarcastically.
"Yeah, maybe."
"Here you go."
Boston jumped in her seat and glanced up from her book. "You scared me."
Jackson smiled, sitting own on the couch in the coffee shop next to her. "I bought you some hot chocolate," he said, handing her the cup.
She smiled. "Thanks." She took the cup from him and took a small drink. She let the heat coming from the cup warm her hands.
Jackson set his cup down on the table in front of them and grabbed the book from her lap. "Serial killers? Method and madness? Really, now? A bit of easy reading?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "Um, it's. Actually a really, really good book."
"Might I ask why?"
"I'm a professor. I, uh, teach at Peninsula College here in Port Angeles."
"Oh yeah? What kind of classes?"
"Criminology and psychology."
Jackson smiled. "That's really interesting." He paused. "Wait, you look a little too young to be a professor. How old are you?"
She laughed. "Well, I'm twenty two. I got my Masters in Criminology and Psychology last year from Miami University in Ohio. I graduated from high school two years early, when I was sixteen, and I was already taking college classes my senior year, so. Yeah. It all kind of worked out," she explained.
"Do you love teaching?"
"Yeah. I mean, it's not what I've always seen myself doing but I'm really happy, so. What about you?"
Jackson looked down and reached for his cup, taking a drink of his coffee. "Top secret."
Boston's eyebrows rose.
"Not good enough?"
"Not really."
"I'm an actor."
She nodded. "Uh-huh. Like an actual actor or one of those I'm-going-to-move-to-L.A.-and-hope-for-the-best actors?"
He smiled. "Real one."
"Okay."
He sighed. "Have you...seen the movie Twilight?"
She shook her head slowly. "I've never even heard of it."
He paused, looking surprised but happy. "You...haven't heard of it?"
Boston studied his face. "Why didn't you want to tell me that?"
"Most girls who find out about that will freak out and try to molest me or only date me to get to Rob."
"I...don't even know who Rob is."
He smiled. "I'm glad you haven't seen the movie. It really makes me feel normal."
"Really?" she asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, it's actually really nice. You're not like everyone else..."
"Um, thank you?"
"It's a compliment, I promise," Jackson assured her. "It's just... You've never even read Twilight?"
"No?"
Jackson laughed. "That makes me so happy. You've no idea."
"I've heard of it but that's it. What's it about? Why is it so big?" she asked, setting her book aside and curling her legs up on the couch, brushing off the side of her boot out of habit. "All I know is that girls in my classes wear Team Edward shirts," she laughed slightly. "Who's Edward?"
He shrugged, resting his arm on the back of the couch, his fist at his temple. "I don't know why it's so big, really," he said, pushing his hair out of his face. "I mean, it's a book serious about vampires. All the girls want to fall in love with an Edward," he rolled his eyes.
"Who do you play?"
"Jasper Hale. I'm a vampire, too. Part of Edward's 'family,' you know?" he said, using air quotes. "He falls in love with a human and craziness ensues," he explained.
"He as in Edward or Jasper?"
"Edward. Jasper already has a soul mate type lady."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
"And, of course, Edward has to be gorgeous because all the girls love him?" Boston asked.
Jackson smiled. "If you're into boufant hair, sure."
"That or they all love the idea of him. Do girls see him as, like, the perfect guy or something?"
"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged.
"I don't believe in perfection," Boston said. "It's unattainable. It sets people's standards too high. These girls--it's sad. They're letting some guy--who isn't even real--trick them into some false belief that men exist like him when they probably don't," she said. "If you set your standards too high, then you'll never be happy."
Jackson just looked at her.
Boston shifted a little, picking at a thread of her black scarf. "You're staring at me."
"Yes."
"Please stop," she said, unable to find the confidence to meet his eyes.
"Why?"
"Because it makes me uncomfortable. Makes me feel like everyone is picking out my flaws."
Jackson smiled, taking another drink of his coffee. "Sorry."
"It's okay," she said. "Just. One of my little quirks."
Jackson set his coffee mug aside again and reached for her hand, running his tumb over her knuckle. "I like your quirks."
"Jackson-- You don't even know me," she said softly.
"Give me teh chance to get to know you."
"I don't know if I can."
He nodded. "I can respect that. Only if you're sure. And only if you really don't want to see me again. Because I really do want to see you," he said quietly.
Boston bit her lip. "Jackson--"
"I like you. Let me take you to dinner."
"I--" she sighed, remembering what her best friend had told her. "Fuck it. Why not?"
Jackson smiled. "Is that a yes?"
She nodded. "Sure. Why not?"
He leaned in a little but stopped. "I want to kiss you but it wouldn't be appropriate because you are a lady and I will not soil your reputation," he said.
Boston laughed. "Really now?"
He nodded. "Really. However," he paused and kissed her cheek, then raised her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. "That won't soil your reputation."
Boston smiled. "You're something else."
"Thank you."
She sighed. "I haven't been on a date in a long time."
"Why me?"
"It's the hair."
Jackson busted out laughing, instinctively running his hand through his hair. "Please tell me you're kidding."
Boston smiled, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"I'll find out?"
"If you're lucky."
"Do you have any classes today?"
She shook her head. "Only Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It's Thursday so I'm free."
He smiled. "So could we start our date early? Make it an all day thing?"
"If you can put up with me for that long, sure."
Jackson's smile widened. "I'm pretty sure I can handle that."
[This is my first story in well over a year, so. I can't guarantee that it's brilliant (like LAoR's Finding Family story, ahem, shameless promoting for my friend). But I'm pretty happy with how it's turning out so far. I'm going to try to update this maybe once a week or so, but college and work take up a lot of time. So, let me know what you think. Reviews, critics, etc. Just let me know your opinions so I know how to improve and all of that great stuff.]